Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Halo. I only own my OC
-Unknown Time, March 29, 2525-
-UNSC Heavy carrier Atlas, Lambda Serpentis System-
-No PoV-
Doctor Halsey reviewed the holographic list in front of her. 27 dead. 36 percent of all candidates. Children. One by one, she reviewed the spartans that had survived the augmentation procedures unscathed and without any kind of defect or disease. Samuel-034, Jorge-052, Jenna-057 and Arthur-079 all had slight irregularities in their augmentations. Samuel's surrounded his upper torso and arms, reinforcing his bones by a small percent more than the others, increasing his already impressive base strength. Jorge had the same thing happen in his procedure and it circulated in the same area. Arthur-079 had a small increase in muscle mass compared to the others, as well as strengthened bones like Samuel and Jorge, making him one the the strongest. Halsey took a look at Jenna-057's profile, and her eyes widened.
"Well now… that's not very good. Déjà get me Doctor Garcio please. Direct him here." Halsey ordered. Her voice had an edge to it. Like a mother bear protecting her cubs.
"At once, Doctor." Déjà winked out. Halsey continued to review the files as she waited for the man to appear.
-Jenna-057 PoV-
The dull beeping of a health monitor reached my ears, followed by the blisteringly white light hanging directly above my medical bed on the high ceiling. Fresh, barely healed scars were eloquently placed around my body. A circular one on each of my shoulders, and two lines that came to a stop just above my chest. Two long scars on both biceps and forearms, as well as two slightly jagged scars on my lower legs. Three criss crossed the underside of my forearms. My body ached and pleaded for me to lay back down and sleep. I refuse its wants and slowly swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I push my weight onto them, and as I expect, collapse to the ground with a frustrated growl. Using my hands, I pull myself to my feet, balancing on the medical bed. The edge creaks and groans under my grip, being pushed in against itself. My grip left clear dents in the soft metal.
"Jenna." A pair of strong arms envelop me in a friendly, but longing hug. My mind snaps itself awake immediately. With a smile of my own, I hug Linda back. "Heh, guess we both made it." I heave myself up onto my medical berth, slowly gaining control of my still trembling body. Linda sits on the berth opposite me, watching intently.
"How do you feel?" She asks. I know she knows, but I humor her anyway. I sigh,
"Like shit." I laugh dryly. "It's like learning to walk all over again now." Linda cracks a uncommon smile, nodding in agreement. "To think we're basically two times bigger than before." Linda hums in agreement.
"Here." She hands me a uniform. I look at her in slight confusion. "Something to wear. You were the last one to wake." She deadpanes.
"Where are we?" I ask, struggling with the shirt. Linda laughs at my expense before moving to help.
"UNSC Atlas. We were moved here to recover, train, and adapt." Linda offered. It took 10 minutes to get me dressed, something that definitely irked me. Even with the two of us. With the overshirt finally on, we left the medical room, heading to join the surviving spartans.
-UNSC Atlas, Halsey's Lab-
-Five minutes prior-
-No PoV-
Halsey barely glanced up as the door to her lab opened and Doctor Robert Garcio entered. He was a middle aged man, with graying hair and thick mustache. His lab coat was a pristine white. His hands buried in his pockets, green eyes alight with guarded curiosity.
"You requested to see me, Doctor Halsey." Garcio commented.
"Yes. I did." Halsey turned to the man and handed him a datapad. "Look at the readings of these four SPARTANs."
A momentary silence overtook them and Déjà as Garcio reviewed the statistics. The confusion was evident on his face, before Déjà pulled up the other surviving, healthy 29 SPARTANs. The good doctor clearly didn't see the problem even if it was staring him in the face as it was now. Unlike the other three, Jenna's muscle dosage was five millilitres above the requirement, the others were only two millilitres. Luckily this fact was off balanced by sturdier bones.
"You nearly killed one more of the SPARTANs. Or removed her from active duty if she tried to run. 27 are already deceased." Halsey growled, as Deja compared Sierra-057 to the other spartans. One by one.
"Doctor I-" Halsey interrupted him.
"No. I don't want to hear this. I told you, before this project even began, that a mismeasurement in anything could have catastrophic consequences. For you. But more importantly: The SPARTANs. And you just risked one of the best sharpshooters in the program. You're fired, doctor." Halsey snatched her pad back and turned away. Failure in this project was unacceptable. Garcio fumed, his face red and he stormed out.
-UNSC Atlas, Atlas corridors-
-Jenna-057 PoV-
Linda and I stepped off the lift. We could hear Halsey as we neared a corner. Pulling my companion against the wall, a very angry Dr. Robert Garcio exited Halsey's lab.
"-cking bitch…" He growled. I could hear his hand go into his pocket. "Did you get the list?"
"Yes. We did. We're carrying out attacks across the colonies on their parents as we speak. Is the girl dead?" A very strange, disembodied voice asked.
"Unknown yet. She's more than likely just woken up, sir." Garcio told the other man. My eyes widened and I turned to Linda, her face equalling mine. I pressed my finger to my lips, continuing to listen to the man speak. "When she tries running, that'll be the only way to tell. Welcker is still with the project. I'll be off the Atlas in a matter of hours."
"Good. If your calculations are correct, then we must prepare for them to come. In every way." The voice spoke again. "I suspect she'll go to Harvest or Arcadia in the near future. The Covenant is proving quite the powerhouse. When she is engaged planetside, make it an 'Accident', Operative Garcio."
"Yes sir. For the URF."
"General Graves, out." The now identified Graves ended the call. I peaked the corner, as he pocketed the device. Linda yanked me violently into a storage closet, roughly shutting the door. Gracio walked past and entered the elevator. After a few moments, the lift activated and we stepped out of the storage closet, nearly running over Halsey in the process.
"Spartans?" Halsey questioned, "Why were you in the closet?"
"Eavesdropping on Garcio, ma'am." I replied for the both of us.
"Ah. I see. I'm glad it wasn't something else." Halsey murmured. I groaned and rolled my eyes, while Linda looked away. "Oh, Jenna, I would like to speak to you after the ceremony in four days time, please."
I blinked, partially expecting this. "Affirmative, doctor." I nodded, and we parted our ways. Linda and I rounded the corner, making way to the other spartans.
"The doctor sure is…" Linda paused, before scrunching her face in thought.
"Interesting?" I supplied. We chuckled, before continuing on our way.
-UNSC Atlas-
-March 30, 2525-
-Jenna-057 PoV-
We were all silent, waiting for CPO Mendez to start. His gaze swept over all of us, one by one. Even now, he was still critical. But there was pride in his eyes as he looked upon his greatest accomplishment so far in his lengthy career. Yet the pride was at battle with sadness.
"Duty. Honor. Self-sacrifice. Death does not diminish these qualities in a soldier. We shall remember our dead. Honors, Attention!" Mendez ordered. As a well oiled machine, every single SPARTAN, even those that weren't standing - came to a rigid attention. People I knew and grew up with, that I laughed with, endured hardships with. Cried with. And all that's left in their absence?
A hollow heart.
The augmentations. Their own bodies betrayed them. What would it have taken, to have them standing, side by side with their brothers and sisters. Their family. I clenched my teeth, taking a quiet, ragged breath, holding onto those memories as my body auto piloted itself. My arm held its stiff salute with the others.
"We commit our fallen…" Mendez collected himself, "To space." He snapped into his own salute with the rest of us, as, one by one, the caskets launched from the side of the Atlas, the bodies of our brothers and sisters forever condemned to the endlessness of the void. I counted them all as they launched away with quiet explosions. 27 caskets. 27 comrades. 27 members of our already small family. And… despite all of our training, their deaths… affected everyone. Even Mendez. Even after the others dispersed, I hadn't moved from my spot. I watched the final resting place for a part of my family until even my augmented eyes couldn't see them any longer. I wasn't the only one to stay put. Jorge did. Jerome. Victor. Cal. Each of us did, and each of us stayed silent.
"I… I'm going to… the gym." I rasped out finally, holding back tears, slowly collecting my thoughts, my actions, feelings. But Halsey came first, and that's where I went. I saw the twelve SPARTANs who survived the procedure, but failed to fully accept them. I watched Serin as she turned, and gave the few of us that she could see, salutes. We all returned them. I lost myself in my own mind as I moved into the gym after my meeting with Halsey. My dress uniform was replaced with sweats and a tank top. I didn't leave for hours. John had the same idea as myself. He joined me only minutes after I walked in. I could feel my mind adapting, learning and understanding its new vessel already. We took turns benching. 100 reps, and then switch, increasing weight each time. We had started at 500 and the number kept going up. It was barely scratching the surface of what we could do.
We settled into a sort of routine. Even in the weeks during recovery. Our record for benching and lifting continued to grow. My meeting with Halsey before the time I spent in the gym was… unfulfilling. I filled her in on Doctor Welcker. The doctor, or rather, operative, Linda and I eavesdropped on, Garcio, and purposefully messed up my augmentations. So I took it easy. I started with laps around the gym, slowly increasing pace. My body adapted almost flawlessly to the purposeful attempt on ruining my life. And, under the careful watch of Mendez, Linda and Halsey, I got better. The hopes Garcio had of me pulverising my own leg bones was a thing of the past within several weeks.
I think I made Kelly jealous when we did races between the 33 of us. In sets of three we went, with CPO Mendez, the man who acted like a hardass, but caring father to us, timing. Each time everyone went through, times got faster and faster. I beat her sixty percent of the time. We all laughed, and cheered, celebrated. All in the name of family. Hell, we got Mendez to participate in the celebrations as well. How John got him to, I don't want to know.
Currently, I was pulverising reinforced punching bags, hitting them with powerful kicks and punches. John kept swapping between benching weights, the speed punching bag and dumbbells. I watched the gymnasium door open and three helljumpers walked in. Kelly took notice as well, stopping her laps around. No single spartan wanted conflict with the ODSTs after what happened the first time the separate branches met. We gathered our overshirts, and moved around the ODSTs towards John.
"He's gonna hurt himself. He knows that, right?" I whispered to Kelly. She smiled, stifling a laugh and shook her head. The bench weights were arranged for spartans, currently sitting at half a ton. And that was warm up weight. The bigger bar, easily 100 lbs and for weights over that half ton, rested on the floor below the bench. Bigger benching bars sat on the wall behind the dumbbell rack weighing up above 300 pounds.
"Oh no." Kelly's accent broke the fragile silence. The ODST's were moving on John.
"Kelly, go get Mendez. I'll hold John back as best I can. Go!" I hissed. We were fast. But we needed to be faster. The ODSTs surrounded John, and I watched his fists curl. Two grabbed him and a third went for a punch. I flipped the third man, as gently as I could, and pinned him against the ground, arms restrained behind his back. I pushed the man away, watching John deal with the other two.
"John, no!" I jumped at 117, pinning him down as he went to snap one's arm. "C'mon Spartan, control." I mumbled in his ear. It didn't last long, however, as the door opened again, and three more entered, along with a Sergeant. Antonio Silva. Antonio didn't like us. He made that clear a week after the ceremony when several spartans were training in the gym. We called it 'friendly first contact'. The sergeant blatantly turned his head away, and the Helljumpers moved to surround us.
"Your gonna pay for that, freaks." One growled.
"You're sergeant is a bitch, you know that, right?" I asked them. Silva heard and whipped around glaring. Good.
"Shut up, freak-bitch." He growled. I stiffened and wanted to lunge at him and crush his skill with my fist. While not the most creative of insults…
"Deal with them." Silva ordered loosely.
They charged and we met their strikes. I kicked one away, in the chest, lost in the rush of the skirmish. The dead man knocked over and landed on Silva. I flipped the other two that decided to go for me. With a growl, I snapped their arms, and turned around to watch John give a final killing blow to one of the Helljumpers with his fist.
And, in that moment, Kelly had returned with Mendez. We explained the situation. He commended us both. Me for trying to defuse the situation, initially, and John for defending himself and the life of his squadmate. I saw, from the corner of my eye, the helljumper sergeant looking at us in disgust, resentment and hatred.
I didn't care.
-1630 hours, September 12, 2525-
-En Route to Eridanus System-
-UNSC Pioneer-
-Jenna-057 PoV-
Six of us stood in the briefing room aboard the Pioneer. An orange hologram was projected from the circular holo-table. The doctor began her briefing.
"There's a mission ONI has been saving for the right team. Colonel Robert Watts earned his rank in the UNSC, but in 2512 he went turncoat. And now he leads the Insurrectionist forces in the Eridanus system. Watts has spent 12 years leading raids against UNSC targets, killing civilians and military alike."
All of us stiffened, fists clenched. If it was one of the things we took seriously, it was attacks on civilians. The black suits, developed from the ones we wore during training on Reach, were a better fit for our fully adapted bodies. Deep down, I knew, that we were excited for our first true test in a live fire situation.
"We have intel that Watts is planning to attack medical satellites in the outer colonies."
Mendez took over from here. "Recently, one of Watts' men cut a deal with ONI. We have known for some time that Watts' forces were launching from the Eridanus asteroid belt. There are millions of rocks scattered over billions of kilometers."
"Sir, how do we get there?" I asked in the brief pause. Halsey did her best to answer.
"Our informant did not know the exact location. However, he did know that the freighter, Laden, is a supply vessel. Mendez."
"Laden is set to leave dock in six hours for routine engine recertification. And yet she's been loaded with enough food and water to supply a small city. Spartans, you will be dropped at the Eridanus II space docks. You'll be dressed the same as members of the Laden crew. Once in the base, you will infiltrate the installation and take Watts alive. If you can."
John enlarged the hologram of the ship with a couple of hand motions, tilting it towards the rest of us. Sam, Kelly, Linda, Fred and I soaked in every little detail we could from the hologram. Mendez offered one last peice of advice. "Be prepared for anything. Finally, Squad Leader, you are hereby promoted to Petty Officer third class."
-September 14, 2525-
-Freighter Laden-
-Jenna-057 PoV-
"Ugh, I can never get shuteye before a mission." Sam complained. I growled.
"I was nearly asleep too, Samuel." I rolled to my side, facing him. Linda laughed at my misfortune.
"Whatever." Sam waved it off happily, "So… what are you doing?" He asked Kelly.
"Scanning freight and shipping documents." She replied.
"Read it to me. That'll to me to sleep." Sam moaned, lulling his head to the right.
"Ten hours out, Blue Team. We'll rotate sleep cycles." John ordered, arms crossed over his chestplate. I gave a quiet 'whoop' and rolled onto my back and shut my eyes, asleep seconds later. Id never expect that I was as tired as that. Asleep in not even a minute. Someone poked me a while later, and I instinctively latched onto it. The barrel of Linda's suppressed SRS. She had a cheeky smile before nodding at John and Fred, who began to converse.
"-crate of cigars, steaks and chocolates." Fred explained.
"Whoa whoa whoa. Someone fill in the sleepy scout please." I requested. Fred reiterated what he had told John, before picking up where he left off, "Luxury items."
"Well, we know where it's going." I stretched, popping my neck.
"Indeed. It's going to Watts." John nodded.
"Exactly." Fred agreed.
-Rebel Stronghold-
-Eridanus Secundus-
We packed up our makeshift camp, and pulled civilian clothing over our bodies. "We are so going to stand out." I complained.
"No we won't." Sam disagreed. John hushed us and beaconed to follow him.
"Crate is moving. Tallest building in this city." I reported, tracking the crate ViA tracer.
"Hmph. Only the best for this pompous prick." Fred huffed. I gawked at him before smacking his head lightly.
"Language boy." I scolded.
"I'm older than you." He deadpanned.
"Sure as hell don't make you smarter." I jeered back with a smirk.
"Hey! Hypocrite." He whisper-yelled. He was immediately shushed by John. He glared at me for a moment before we laughed quietly. Moments of tracking later, and moving silently from building to building, Kelly updated us. "Nav marker: 443 meters and holding."
"That's top floor. Helmets on, move out." John ordered, slipping his own on. I pulled mine over my head, and listened as it pressurized. Prying open the elevator doors, Sam went first, and then I followed, and then did everyone else. Sam placed an explosive on the door. When it detonated, Sam and I moved in, downing the first pair of enemies ever killed by a Spartan. Slowly we moved through the facility, becoming more and more comfortable in the middle of the fight. I swapped my SMG for my sidearm; an M6 magnum. In rapid succession I squeezed its trigger, dropping two rebels in the blink of an eye. Sam got caught in the open as a rebel popped up and sprayed at him. John tackled him, taking the hit instead.
"John!" The simultaneous call came from the rest of us. The insurrectionist was torn apart in a hail of lead, head turned into a bloody paste sprinkled on the wall behind him. The Petty Officer grunted, ordering the area secured. Kelly attended to his wounds with Biofoam.
"That was stupid, John." Sam's voice came over the comm, "Queen doesn't sacrifice everything to collect a pawn."
"All the pieces go back in the same box when the game is done."
"Alright enough!" I butt in. "Focus on the mission!"
"Right…" Sam sighed. He pulled John to his feet, and we proceeded towards the final room in the tower. Kelly and Fred tossed flashbangs through the door, disorientating the rebels for a few precious seconds. We stormed the room, and downed three of the seven rebels guarding our target. Seconds later the other four were down with several holes in their bodies. I approached the desk from the side, magnum holstered. Watts crept from behind the desk, pistol in hand.
"You won't take me alive." He placed it's barrel against his head, but Linda was quicker. She tapped her trigger, and the anti-materiel bullet obliterated the pistol and forced it away from Watts, a clean hole in the firing mechanism. I leapt from the shadows, and tackled the traitor to the floor, slamming cuffs on his hands.
"Empty the crate. Sam, load the cargo." John ordered.
"Get your hands off me boy." Watts growled at me. I growled back. "I don't know who or what you are, but none of you are leaving here alive. And there's no way in hell I'm getti-"
I slammed my pistol into his head, rendering him unconscious. "Shut up, jackass. I ain't a dude." I scowled.
"Language, spartan." Fred scolded. I shook my head at him, making a show of sticking out my tongue like a child.
-November 2, 2525-
For the next several weeks, we didn't get to go back to Reach, to our family. As we exited the pelican, a man stood alone in the hangar.
"Who's that?" John asked.
"Uniform says Keyes." Sam replied, "Maybe he's here to interrogate Watts?"
"Doubtful Sam." I deflated his argument. He was familiar. "Hey, Linda. Does that guy look…?"
"Familiar? Very." She nodded. We sat down in a small circle, waiting for John to finish. I caught Keyes walking away from John, but didn't see Mendez.
"-was behind an overturned desk." Kelly told Sam. "You entered in blindly. At least no one is too hurt." She sighed.
"Amphitheater, Spartans! On the double." Mendez's voice echoed in the pelican bay.
"Yes sir." Came our reflective and immediate response. We joined the rest of our comrades in the very room that held our program introduction all those years ago, with some slight changes. It was darker, cleaner. We sat, the rest of the spartans whispering around us.
"What do you think it is? Insurrection revenge strike?" Fred asked.
"If it was, wouldn't we have been redeployed by now?" I countered.
"No. It's something else." John said. "Something big."
"How big?" Sam asked.
"Unknown." was the Chief's reply.
"At ease, Spartans. I am Vice Admiral Stanforth." The grey haired man introduced. All level of talk disappeared in the big room, and all 33 pairs of augmented eyes trained themselves on the veteran naval officer. "This is Harvest. Population: 3 million." An image of the planet came up. The white of the clouds, green of land and the deep blue of the water could be seen clearly through the holographic image.
"A peaceful and productive farming world." Stanforth continued. "On February 3rd, at 1423 hours, the Harvest orbital platform made long-range radar contact with this object. After that… all contact with Harvest was lost. Command assembled a battlegroup." Three UNSC ships appeared. Two frigates and a destroyer. Our attention fell upon the small battlegroup.
"What they found was all that was left of Harvest." The image of the planet changed. It was black, and burning. Massive craters dotted the planet, and there was barely any visible blue, or green. Any and all clouds from the previous image were gone. My eyes widened. Was this what Garcio mentioned with Graves, I asked myself, the threat?
"Three million lives lost. The colony was burnt to ash. Power like humanity has never seen. Then… they encountered this." An image appeared, similar to the one showed from the scans of the Orbital Platform. It was purple, long and sleek. And it easily dwarfed the small, three ship battlegroup that FLEETCOM had sent. The scene changed again. A small debris field. "It destroyed the Vostok and Arabia in under a minute, using highly advanced weapons and impenetrable shielding."
The room was deathly silent. Shielding? That was a new term, but everyone knew what it meant. We couldn't touch the other ship. Not effectively. "The Heracles escaped into slipspace with substantial damage, and brought this intel back." Stanforth was livid, and us spartans could read him like a book.
"They will not negotiate, they will not communicate. They cannot be reasoned or bartered with." Stanforth's face was one of carefully stroked anger, hate and vengeance. "Humanity will fight back. We've already seen that we cannot do it with the blunt instrument of a fleet. We need the surgical precision of a scalpel." Stanforth turned to us. "The SPARTAN program is that scalpel. We received a message before the attack in UEG base English. Play the message, Beowulf."
An image appeared. Blue background, black figure up front. The message played: "Humans, your destruction is the will of the gods. And we are their instrument." The voice was raspy, old and 100% alien. I sucked a breath. It was like I could feel the hate, the anger and the self-righteousness of this being in the recording. It was so sure of itself, that we could be crushed quickly. I felt anger bubble into rage and hate. And revenge for the three million lives lost on Harvest. The image slowly faded to black.
"Spartans." Halsey spoke once the message finished, "In one standard week, we will be going to Chi Ceti IV aboard the frigate Commonwealth. Dismissed."
-November 6, 2525-
I was happy we had all recovered by the middle of November. Every single SPARTAN spent that week training, reading, learning and preparing. The war was official now. It was do or die. We knew that we were the most important weapon the UNSC had at it's disposal. Very little was known about the alien vessel as a whole. The Heracles returned with plasma scoring all along it's hull. Video footage of the engagement showed just how outclassed our ships were. And with no visible ground combat from Harvest, we were left in the dark about those forces that the Covenant possessed.
I tilted my head into my hands, grabbing at my thin hair. Will-043 sat down next to me, a silence enveloping us.
"Alright, what's wrong?" Will asked after a moment.
"I knew." was my reply. "The day Garcio was removed from the project, I knew."
"About this? The aliens?" I nodded in reply.
"Yes. He called them Covenant. He spoke with a innie named General Graves about it." I shook my head. I had spent the past two days without sleep, trying to learn everything I could.
"Get a few hours of shut eye, then talk to Mendez or Halsey." Will suggested, giving me a friendly a pat on the back before standing and leaving me alone.
"Yea…" I mumbled. Instead of sleeping, I hunted for Mendez and told him everything I had heard since Garcio was removed. I didn't enjoy it in the slightest, and the thought of Garcio's attempt on our lives filled me with rage. Mendez soaked in every detail I gave him, and began walking with Halsey when she appeared. I went the opposite direction, and vented my anger out in the gymnasium, where I managed to fall asleep against a wall.
-November 27, 2525-
-UNSC Commonwealth, En Route to Chi Ceti IV-
-Jenna-057 PoV-
I woke up in my bunk, in time to see the others. Linda was sitting on the edge of my bunk, apparently having decided to keep me company. I took comfort in that. It happened little during training, but I embraced every instance either of us did it. Meanwhile Sam and Kelly sparred. Fred hung from the top of his cryo chamber, doing sit ups. Kelly flipped Sam over her, and onto the floor.
"Agh! Damn it!" Sam groaned, laying on his back.
"You're… still dropping… your shoulder." Fred grunted out between sit ups.
"I know." Sam groaned again. Kelly helped Sam to his feet. "Lets go again." She offered.
Before they got the chance, John entered the room. Everyone immediately hopped to attention, standing in a orderly semi circle in front of the Petty Officer. "Does Project: MJOLNIR mean anything to anyone?" He asked.
"Gotta be some kind of weapon." Fred surmised. "Brass isn't very imaginative with codenames."
"While I agree with part 2, your first makes no sense, Fred." I shook my head, placing my hands on my hips. "We're spartans. Would it make sense for us to fight in suits that are barely rated for zero G, or plasma? I say it's armor."
"Spartan-117 report to the bridge." Halsey's voice was quiet over the small intercom terminal in the wall next to John.
"Yes ma'am. Sam, get everyone ready. On the double." John ordered, leaving the cryo room.
"You heard the Petty Officer: Dog the distractions and into uniforms, Spartans." Sam relayed. The ship jolted and shuddered. Explosions reverberated throughout the ship structure. The Commonwealth was moving, spinning as we rushed into the dropship. Even through the deck of the pelican, we could feel a shudder. And then a second.
"MAC rounds." Kelly guessed. No one responded. John and Halsey appeared a moment later. The bay door closed, and the three Pelicans, with all spartans aboard, left the hangar. Through the small rear viewport on the pelican, we could see the Commonwealth. She was venting through multiple decks, while the Covenant cruiser was smoking beneath its shield. Clearly the Paris-class frigate could damage it. The ride was quick, and the bumps the pelican hit were barely even noticeable. The dropship beneath our feet shuttered as it touched down on Damascus testing facility landing pad number four. Halsey led us inside, down a long elevator ride, to a room not much smaller than the amphitheater on Reach.
"This…" Halsey gestured to the middle of the room. Two giant yellow rings surrounded a presently retracting gate in the floor. "...is project: MJOLNIR". Six suits rose from the ground, and I elbowed Fred.
"Told you it was a suit." I gave him a cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes in response, but smiled nonetheless.
"The armor's shell is a multilayer alloy of remarkable strength. An onboard computer connects with your neural interface to continually track tactical information. And the inner structure is composed of a new reactive metal liquid crystal that is amorphous, yet fractally scales and amplifies force." Halsey explained, pride evident.
"Ma'am, so you're saying this exoskeleton enhances both the wearer's strength and speed?" Fred confirmed.
"Yes, 104, by a multiple of five." Halsey nodded slightly with a smile.
"Sign me up." Sam exclaimed.
"Hell yes." I grinned, gazing over Sam's shoulder at the suits. Olive green, and christened with our respective spartan numbers.
Linda, however, brought our moods down a peg. "And the drawbacks, ma'am?"
"This system is so reactive, that our previous tests with unaugmented volunteers ended in failure. The amplified movements broke their bones, tore their muscles. Their own agony-induced spasms killed them. But you are not normal humans. Your enhanced musculature and skeletons should be enough to allow you to harness the armor's power."
" 'Should be', ma'am?" I asked next. Linda's own concern sparked mine.
"We've hadn't a chance to use it with spartans, 057." Halsey stated. "Now, I'll need a volun-" John interrupted her.
"I'll do it. I'll be first." John stepped forward.
"I thought you might." Halsey stepped toward the foremost suit, with an ever obvious '117' on the left of the breastplate. Techs appeared, ready for Halsey to let them help. John was suited in five minutes and placed on a metal, medical-like berth, angled at the ground. He moved slowly as Dr. Halsey explained the rest of the armor to us.
"C'mon man, you got this." Sam urged, eyes tight. Every other spartan, the techs, even Halsey watched on, pleading for this to work. I stood slightly behind Linda, watching every twitch, every subtle movement the Petty Officer made. With a metallic clang, John stepped off the berth.
"It's lighter than I expected." Halsey was waiting with his helmet.
"Easy now." Halsey reached up, and John leant forward, allowing the brain behind the spartans to crown the very first. "Well, how does it feel?" She asked as the helmet sealed around John's head.
"Like I was made to wear it, ma'am." Came his confident, but slightly slurred response through the helmet's filter. One by one, the techs suited every one of us up. Linda and I were the first on the range, snipers locked and loaded. We glanced at each other through the polarized visors. My grin was gleeful. I couldn't wait to see how the armor performed, and what it could do. We fired, shattering the first target. We kept going. In less than three seconds, the magazines were empty, and we shared high fives. Eight targets, in three seconds. A new, tough record.
"It feels… natural." I commented, watching Fred jump over a several meter high obstacle. One by one we cycled through each training exercise. Obstacles, specially built treadmills, strength tests. Everything to put us - and the armor - through our paces. Were it not for the numbers on our breastplates, you could tell almost none of us apart. But each helmet was tailored to its wearer, while keeping the same design. Linda and I had large, 25 meter motion trackers. Fred had extra knife sheaths in his shoulder pauldrons. Sam had slightly bigger field of view than the rest of us through his helmet. John had an increased tactical readout, being linked as a squad with us all. We surfed through the features, adjusting our Huds. Every spartan shared, what was quickly called the 'Spartan' communications line. It was dubbed, and renamed as such. The helmet ran diagnostics and acquired our service information from our neural implants. But we had no shields. I hoped it wouldn't matter but I asked Halsey anyway.
"Doctor." I waited for her to turn. A moment later she did, as well as John.
"Yes, spartan?" Halsey addressed.
"What do we do in case of suit breach?"
"Ah yes. Doctor Sorvad." Said man walked over, an object in hand. A case. He handed it to me. Popping the seal, several pieces of equipment greeted my eyes through the golden visor.
"A peice of plating used in the suits' construction, as well as appropriate tools to fuse it to the armor. This, however, is only temporary. The fusing wont be strong enough for lasting combat in space. You have roughly 2 hours to get into a pressurized zone before this falls off the armor." I nodded and closed the case.
Sorvad took it and gave me a smaller one. It wasn't any bigger than the mid section of a pair of rocket tubes for an M-41 launcher. John gathered the rest, and techs handed out one breach kit to each Spartan. The magnetic strips on our backs clamped the case with audible bangs. Every spartan had their chosen weapons mounted on top of the case, and on the powerful magnets on their thighs.
"Spartans. This is what we trained our entire lives to do." John addressed us all. Even if we couldn't hear him clearly through his helmet, his baritone voice eclipsed that through our comms. "If we lose here, we lose everything. Let's send our own message."
"Sir yes sir!" Everyone yelled in synchronization. Captain Wallace of the Paris-class frigate in orbit above us called Halsey, reporting the return of the Covenant ship. John, in the most professional way possible, begged the Doctor to let us, all of us, take a shot.
"Godspeed, John. To all of you." Halsey chose not to argue. It wouldn't be worth the cost of their only obvious way off planet.
"Let's move Spartans!" John surged towards the facility entrance, towards the pelicans, every last one of us hot on his heels. Apparently the base had a stock of Nukes, because the warheads were carefully placed inside of five pelicans. Six, and in the case of three of the pelicans, seven, spartans loaded into the birds. There were no naval pilots, but spartans instead, eased their birds into the air, well aware of the highly volatile cargo they carried. Quickly the clumsy and cumbersome dropships broke atmosphere. Sam began to voice his opinion on the current mission.
"Sam, quit whining you big baby." I groaned, my head making contact with the headrest behind me. Blue team, except Sam, chuckled.
"I'm just saying, you could have volunteered Red Team instead."
"Aw, you know we'd be more than happy to do so, Sammy. But that means we'd get all the glory." Douglas, Red three pipped over the comm. With everyone linked by comm, the laughter was nearly deafening. Even John joined into the fun.
"You want me to pull over? Let you out right here?" He asked, his voice a mix of joking and dead seriousness. The laughter started up again.
"In Mendez's words: It's a long walk home." Fred interjected, laughter in his own statement.
"Well done, Sammy." William-043 cackled over the comm. The current speaker, or speakers were popping in and out below the comm channel icon at the top left corner of my hud. "The first spartan to not wanna do a mission. On his first official one."
"Wha-hey! I never said that!" Sam howled.
"Yes you did!" Linda deadpanned, enjoying her teammate's embarrassment.
"No one will fault ya, Sammy." Alice, red-two, cooed, "You'll just be… the odd one out."
"Yea yea yea. I get it." Samuel growled. "I trust you guys and everything, but how are we supposed to take on a Covenant ship in a Pelican? Drown them in our blood?"
"I was thinking, the Commonwealth's Pelicans, and the ones from Damascus, are carrying these very helpful nukes." John, Kelly and Sam stepped out from the cockpit.
"Nukes won't even scratch em." Fred shook his armored head. I watched, before another spartan voiced what I was thinking.
"What about from inside? I bet those things aren't rated for that!" Arthur-079 popped over the spartan channel.
"That's right. We can't beat them with brute force, remember? Scalpels, surgical precision." John typed in a passcode on a terminal screen, opening the Havok locker. "Spartans, get your nukes." John ordered everyone.
"Yes Sir." Came the reply from Jerome, Margaret, Jorge and Cal.
"All pelicans on autopilot." Fred reported. Even across comms, the audible sounds of weapons readying came up. Slides, bolts and smacking of magazines into their holders.
"Red Team, ready." Jerome.
"Black team, green." Margaret.
"Green team. Go to good." Cal.
"Omega, ready." Jorge.
"Blue team is saddled and ready, sir." Fred reported.
"You heard this plan? And we're still doing it?" Sam asked.
"Do you have a better idea?" I asked, pulling the bolt of my SRS, before attaching it to the clamps on my back. I readied my pistol next and magnetized it to my thigh.
"Check repair kits." Jerome ordered to his team, but everyone heard it.
"Do as the man says, spartans." John confirmed. It took a little over five minutes for every spartan to double and triple check their kits.
"I love this plan." Fred commented. The bay door lowered.
"As do I." I nodded.
"I love it too." Linda and Kelly agreed.
"Could be worse." Jorge muttered. I poked my head out the bay door, spotting the other four Pelicans on our left.
"John, if we miss…?" Kelly wondered.
"We won't." John shook off her worry. The Pelicans turned, giving every single one of us a view of the Covenant ship. Big, purple and menacingly powerful. One by one, we filed out of the Pelican. Green, Red, Black and Omega followed suit from their own. Each team fell into a wedge formation. The jets in the armor propelled us at several hundred kilometers an hour towards the Covenant ship. With subtle adjustments to our trajectory, the Commonwealth came into view as well.
"The turrets. The shields have to IRIS for them to fire." Kelly realised.
"If we time this right, we're behind their shields." John agreed. "Red, your with us. Black, Omega, Green take the other side. We rendezvous somewhere in the middle."
"Roger that Chief." The synonymous reply came across the channel within seconds of its issuing, the seven spartans of Red had formed on us. Omega, Green and Blacks' formation of 20 spartans zipped over top of us silently. They moved quick and navigated to the opposite side of the cruiser. I breathed hard in my helmet. The blue hud reflected against my face.
"Two hundred klicks, chief." I updated.
"Roger blue-four." Chief acknowledged. "All teams ready." On the far side, all the tags of the other twenty spartans appeared on our huds. A beep hit our screens and the teams slowed and condensed into smaller formations, turning into high velocity cones of high tech armor and determined teenagers. We weaved and dodged, avoiding the deadly hailstorm of plasma from the cruiser. The Commonwealth fired its MAC one more time. The round impacted, and the shields of the alien ship shattered.
"All spartans. Board that ship. Now." John's order came in. We pushed faster, and collision warnings blared in our helmets.
"Mag boots!" John cried. After three minutes of waiting, everyone was gathered at the MAC round opening the Commonwealth's second shot had made. We proceeded in, and split up. The other three teams went down a deck as Red joined us.
"I need intel." Chief ordered.
"I've got Cherenkov radiation readings from all over the ship." Kelly offered.
"Could be anything." John warned.
"We're getting them, too." Cal reported it. Margaret reported the same thing.
"Largest is coming from the middle. Im guessing the reactor." Jorge put his own in.
"Well, lets blow these bastards apart then." Douglas pumped his shotgun's grip, chambering an 8 gauge shell.
"Calm down, trigger happy." I tapped the spartan's shoulder pauldron with my armored knuckles as we walked the blue lit halls.
"Sam, Jenna, Jerome and Douglas, take point. Kelly, Linda, Alice, Mike, Adriana take middle. Fred, Jai, and Grace, with me. We have the rear." Without another word, our mini platoon of 13 spartans moved through the ship. I moved against a purple wall. The blue lighting illuminated the olive green of my armor. Around the corner, a pressure door. My breathing was loud in the confines of my pressurized helmet. Four different glowing blue pentagons sealed the door from all sides. We moved up to it, keeping formation. I looked around at the other spartans. Jerome and I were slightly ahead of Sam and Douglas, who held our flanks. Linda and Mike had left, while Alice and Adriana had right, Kelly occupying the middle. John and Grace took the middle, while Fred and Jai held the flanks at the back. Kelly unlocked the door, and with rifles raised, the thirteen of us moved through.
"Chief, I've got the others on motion." I informed.
"Roger that. Spartans, fall in." John ordered over the spartan line. We moved, and the blips moved, all within the same second. They appeared off to our sides and melded into the formation. It shifted, with the Leaders that had the nuclear payloads taking up the rear. Jorge joined the front to my left, as did Margaret. The door ahead of us seemed ominous. However, just before the door, a five foot, chubby alien appeared. It was orange, had a dull silver breather on its face and two beady eyes. It had a tank on its back and a weird pistol in its fat, scaly hand. When it spotted us its eyes widened with comical fear and it freaked. Its breather expelled methane gas, and it fired it's plasma weapon. It's rounds struck my armored chest I stumbled back down to a knee in surprise, dropping my sniper in the process. Everyone who could, opened fire on the little alien. I gasped and clutched at the armor.
"Blue-four report." John ordered, crouching in front me. Linda squatted to my right, her hand on my shoulder.
"...Not good…" I took a breath with a head shake. The plasma stung. "Armor breach... That shit stings, sir."
"Roger. Collect samples. Tissue, armor, weapons. Anything." John ordered to the others, pulling the armor kit from my back, and, with help from Jerome and Victor, set about repairing the breach in my armor. After about 10 minutes, it was patched, and repaired. Placing it on my back again, I climbed to my feet.
"Green, sir." I nodded. It still stung, but it wouldn't hinder me. I hope.
"Let's move, spartans." John ordered. We proceeded, onwards, and I switched with Alice, taking her spot on flank. The recovered items from the alien were placed in the unit on Jorge's back.
"Contact." I warned the others. My sniper was trained on a spot in front of me. "I've got three on thermal. Our height, cloaked."
The weapons of the front four, and flank four, as well as the ones in the middle trained on the alien. The others moved for a clear firing line. It decloaked, giving us a good look at it. Blue armor, four mandibles and rows of sharp teeth. A weapon in its hand activated. A twin bladed sword. Roughly four feet long, and made of pure energy. Another two appeared the exact same as the first, with the same weapon. The only change was one had reddish armor, while another had white. With a guttural roar, they charged.
"Bring them down!" John ordered. All 33 weapons opened on them. Shields flared and flickered around the alien, and a plasma round caught Sam. He fell back with a shocked cry. The split lip bastards never got close to us. The red one had the strongest shields, but ate no less than six of Anti-Materiel rounds from the group's snipers, including one from me. Linda popped a round through its skull in the half second after its shields fell.
"I'm okay." Sam groaned.
"Two breaches. Fan fucking tastic. Damn split-lips." I glowered at the dead aliens. I approached them with Jorge, Linda, Mike and Alice. "They had shields. And cloaks. ONI's going to love this." Jorge commented. I grunted, rolling one to its back and I pried open the back panel of its armor. My hud told me it was unknown. My instincts told me it was the shields and cloak. "Got the shields. And the cloak...?" I picked out an object just below it. It was silver, and oddly shaped, like a bean.
"We got the same." Jorge reported.
"Three for three." Mike agreed.
"Bring them all." John ordered. "Is that breach covered and secured?" John asked. I gathered the three cylindrical objects they had held.
"Affirmative." Jai nodded, helping Sam up. Margaret handed the spartan his weapon, which he took with a nod. Jorge pulled the containment unit from his back, and placed all of which we scavenged from the dead split lips and mushy alien inside.
"Careful with these. Don't cut yourself." I warned the friendly giant, placing the three hilts in the containment unit.
"All secure, sir." Jorge informed Chief, placing the unit on the back of his armor. Five minutes more, and our group of 33 spartans entered the reactor room.
"This is the source of the radiation spike." Kelly affirmed. Cal confirmed it as well as several others.
"Alright. Squad Leaders, place and arm the wa-"
"Contacts!" Jorge opened fired with his mobile turret, immediately downing two of three. These ones looked like birds and had personal, disc-like shields. The group scattered, carefully rolling and dodging each plasma shot from the foul bird. Linda popped out and nailed the last one through the eye.
"I'll seal the door. Finish arming those warheads." I watched Kelly sprint from cover, aware of the beeping that the other Squad Leaders were making on the Nukes. I looked back and watched Jorge placed and armed his just below the edge of the platform. He was being certain that we succeeded. I turned back and fired through the door, and got rewarded with a guttural roar of pain. The spartans of Omega littered Anti-personnel mines and sensor explosive around the door, and then welded it shut. Victor scavenged the pistols and personal hand-held shields, and placed them in Jorge's containment unit.
"Bombs are set. Let's move Spartans!" John ordered. We began moving, taking a side door while the main one was blown open. "Five minutes spartans!" The timer appears on our huds, and we pushed ourselves faster. Adrenaline surged through my body, and time seemed to slow. I could see each armor movement, each transfer of weight, in slow motion. We barreled through the doors.
"Hangar!" John pointed out. "Prep for EVA!" And we did, on the move at more than 30 miles an hour, dodging plasma fire from the aliens. One by one, withinside of 20 seconds, we were out of the ship, and outside its barely recharging shields.
3…
2…
1...
Behind us, the Covenant ship was turned to atoms from the combined power of five Havok warheads.
We had succeeded. For the first time in the war. We showed the the entirety of Humanity that we could win. That we could stand and fight, and push them back. They were as mortal as us. And we were ready.
Now… these aliens, this Covenant, had something to fear.
And we were just beginning.
AN:
